Information
by EstiRose
Summary: How Cam knew. Set during PtaS.


Disclaimer: Characters belong to BVE and VRP.   
  
Author's note: Plot bunny, from a question that was posed on one of the boards I frequent: how *did* Cam know about what had happened to his Dad, since he was stuck in the wreckage?  
  
Telepathic communication *like this*  
  
Spoilers: Prelude to a Storm  
  
Information by Selma McCrory (EstiRose) c 2003  
  
He didn't remember it happening, and yet he was there, pinned under a pile of rubble. He'd been checking some wires in the main academy building, and then something had rumbled outside, and the next thing he knew, he was buried.  
  
*Cameron?* the voice asked, and he inwardly relaxed as he heard the mental voice of his father. Maybe the building had collapsed, or at least some of it, and failing to get his son to respond audibly, he'd gone to using telepathy. There were some advantages to being the son of a Ninja Master.  
  
*Yes, Dad?* Cam responded. *What happened?*  
  
*Our school... was attacked, my son,* his father told him grimly.   
  
*Attacked?* The Academy was on private grounds; to the rest of the world it was a combination martial arts academy and boarding school.  
  
*Yes, by an evil space ninja, named Lothor.*  
  
*Lothor?* Cam asked. Who in the heck was Lothor?  
  
*He was banished from Ninja society before you were born, my son,* his father said patiently. *His name is not spoken.*  
  
*Duh.* Cam rolled his eyes. *Is everyone okay? Am I the only one trapped?*  
  
*Cameron, I am the only one here. Lothor has taken all the students and teachers. I did not know that you were not among the missing until I called you.*  
  
Cam took a moment to parse his father's sentence. *Where are you? Are you okay?*  
  
*I am all right,* his father reassured him. *However, I did not come out of the battle with Lothor... unscathed.*  
  
*Dad?* Cam asked, knowing that his father was leaving something out. Something in what he said did not compute.   
  
*One of Lothor's blasts, intending to kill me, instead interfered with my own powers. I am now trapped in the form of a guinea pig.*  
  
Cam resisted rolling his eyes again. Only *his* father would have a problem like this. *Where are you now?*  
  
*I am in the underground facility, attempting to discover if anybody survived besides the two of us. So far, I have not succeeded. I suspect that we were not the only ones attacked. There has been no answer from either the Hurricane or Island ninja academies.*  
  
*And if anybody would survive an attack, Island would,* Cam acknowledged. Island was the tiniest of the nineteen academies, and in fact was located underneath an island in San Francisco Bay. The only entrance was through what appeared to be a small, one-story building that supposedly covered the entrance to an abandoned mine shaft. Of course, Island only had maybe ten students and a handful of staff.  
  
*Indeed.*   
  
*How about the graduates?* Cam asked, knowing that this 'evil space ninja' couldn't have gotten everybody.  
  
*I hear only silence, Cameron.*  
  
*Great,* Cam said, shaking his head. He prodded at the rubble enclosing him. *So we're stuck here.*  
  
Somehow, the thought didn't appeal to him; in fact, it caused him to shake, even though the weather was still warm as far as he could tell. If he didn't get out of here, he would slowly starve to death. He didn't have his cellphone on him, and he couldn't think of a way that his father could ask for outside help without revealing that he was a guinea pig... if he could even....  
  
*Dad, are you capable of speech in that form?* Cam asked desperately.   
  
*Yes, my son.*  
  
*Good, you can call emergency....* Maybe they could explain it away, somehow.  
  
His father cut him off. *That will not be necessary, Cameron.*  
  
*Not nec....* He couldn't think of why his father thought that way. Somebody was going to have to get help. And unless he was lucky, it wouldn't be him.  
  
*Listen,* his father said, in his best 'teacher' tone.  
  
And Cam did. Remotely, he started to hear voices. As he listened, he recognized them. *What are they doing here?* he asked.  
  
His father's tone held amusement. *I believe that it is called 'being late to class again', my son. Signal to them; I will meet you downstairs.*  
  
Cam, feeling a sudden, bizare hope, struggled against the wreckage. 


End file.
